The book is over two years in the making. At the beginning of my frugal journey, I had five figures of debt. Now, I have assets and capital. I no longer worry about what I’ll owe the bank. My potential and future are invested in me. I wrote Frugaling so that others could find financial freedom and empowerment.

But today, rather than focus on why I decided to write this book, I figured I’d acknowledge some of the people that helped make it happen. The people I want to mention have been interested from day one. They have supported, encouraged, and promoted my work better than I could ever do. And for that, I’m eternally grateful.

To Mom and Dad, you shared the site and book with friends and family, provided commentary along the way, and built a home where reading and writing were vital skills. And Mom, a special thank you for reading and editing the early drafts.

To Noah, thank you for providing some last minute changes to the book. I would’ve looked like a fool without your help! Good luck on your first day of school.

To Joshua, your words spawned the last 6 months of work to write and compile this book. I cannot thank you enough for your support and help.

To Danny, Eric, and Kate, I couldn’t have asked for three bigger fans. You signed up for the email digests, marketed my book, and offered inspiration for countless articles over the years.

To Jeff, thanks for keeping in touch all these years. Our shared experiences with debt helped light a fire for Frugaling!

To Chase, Christian, Danika, Devan, Kevin, Laura, Linda, Morgan, Nika, Paul, Susan, Yun, and the many more I probably need to mention, thanks for checking in about the book, commenting on the site, and sending interesting articles my way. You’ve been an incredible network for support and ideas.

To those who email, tweet, text, and/or randomly message me, your words mean so much. I’m always blown away when someone says an article made them feel better and/or connected. I’ll do my best to keep it up.

Gratitude comes easy after writing this book. I couldn’t have done it without you all. I hope you’ll support me by buying the book today! And I’d love it if you shared the book on Twitter and Facebook to help spread the word.

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This past weekend I traveled to my alma mater, Colorado State University. My old stomping grounds changed, as new buildings and flashy designs populated the sprawling campus. But despite the changing landscape, it felt familiar.

There are countless memories — exceptional and horrific — that span my 5 years of life in Fort Collins, Colorado. One of the most poignant and relevant were the many financial mistakes made during my tenure. It was here that I started a crazy financial roller coaster that led me to nearly $40,000 in student loans and debt. It was here that I first noticed a panicky daydream where I would be sucked into the ground and have no way out of this horrific financial hell.

After reflecting on my visit and time in Fort Collins, I realized that I’ve changed — like the campus landscape. I’ve learned a lot about myself and some financial lessons along the way. Today, I wanted to focus on 5 key aspects that college helped me understand about personal finance. What I would’ve given back then to know this information now!

1. Friends influence frugality
Unsurprisingly, the people you surround yourself with greatly influence how you spend your money. If you’re trying to be a more frugal person, it’ll be vital to find friends that support and approve your way of life. It can be radically different from the party, work-hard-play-hard mentality at some campuses. Additionally, if you attend a private college/university, you may be around people with larger bank accounts. It’s important to reflect on who you are and what your inner compass is telling you about finances.

2. College is expensive, put extra funds in a savings account
While I was fortunate to have parents that paid for college, I didn’t budget well — if at all. My parents gave me a little spending money and I did exactly that, spent it! It wasn’t “saving money.” I burned through the money. From expensive dinners to luxury road bikes, I was a faux-millionaire with an unquenchable need to spend. Much of this could’ve been solved or stifled with a good budget. And it’s never too early to make a budget! College is the ideal time to figure out these important “adult” issues, as you should have money coming in and out. If you ever have extra funds — whether you’re the campus pot dealer or have generous parents — stock your funds away for rainy days.

3. Question your student loan “award” unmercilessly
Student loans are often called “awards” after you apply for and fill out the FAFSA. Unfortunately, these are not anything of the sort. Student loans are powerful debt instruments that are issued by the federal government, with changing terms and interest obligations. These are complex, dangerous, and can spiral out of control rapidly. With any decision to take out student loans you need to be unmercilessly skeptical and defensive.

4. Avoid car-friendly/needed campusesI sold my car over the summer. It’s been a difficult adjustment, as the current university — Iowa — isn’t particularly bike-friendly. Wherever you intend to go to school, consider public transportation and (wide) bike lanes. You should be able to receive free transportation on buses with a student ID. Look out for bike racks, too! Ideally, you’d be able to sell or avoid buying a car altogether.

5. Find “easy” jobs and double-up on work
College campuses have tons of jobs for students. If you’re an exceptionally busy, motivated student — and I hope you are with what college costs — it’s important to find a job that allows you to double-up on work. For instance, you could get a job as a server that pays very well, but that could make it difficult to take full semester course loads. Thus, you sacrifice one part of your life for another. An alternate option — especially if under a time crunch to graduate — is to find a desk job at a residence hall or an office assistant position. Oftentimes, these jobs have downtime and allow you to sneak in some study time. Now, you can be efficient and make some money in the process. What could be better?!

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I joined Facebook when it was limited to college students. I remember that scary moment when the company allowed others to join (i.e., older adults and high school students). I remember when things you liked could be shared with other friends, and you could see what others were interested in. I remember when status updates were framed in third-person thoughts (“Sam is…”). It was my home away from home, and a bastion for friends and family to connect. And then, one year ago, I deleted it all.

When I joined in 2007, Facebook was a select, elite social network. Everyone I knew wanted an account. Eventually, they all got one. Where once, my friends would’ve texted or emailed to update me, they “Facebooked.” Their messages and updates became broadcasts — written on semi-public “walls.” Others could contribute and participate. Moments were shared — online.

It was a pure experience and I never really noticed advertising. There was an undercurrent of concern about Facebook’s privacy policy and habit of defaulting to public profiles. But I stayed informed and on top of it, always making my profile more private. Facebook was a safe place to share my thoughts and memorable moments.

There was that first party, first relationship, first love, and first adult vacation. All was captured and curated. Others could peruse and get to know me; albeit, in a detached, digital sense. And that feeling grew and grew, as I realized that my ballooning friend network wasn’t about friendship.

In college, I was frequently in the public eye and had built a large professional network. Facebook served as a hub for connecting with those people — a nascent LinkedIn. But I embraced the opportunity to stay in contact with important people. That networking and messaging led me to meet the Governor of Colorado a couple times and enabled me to fundraise thousands of dollars. It was wonderful.

But it was also the home of my first breakup, the next breakup, and then the few after that. Facebook showed my hurt. The site featured a fractured post-breakup silence and photo-less few months. It ebbed and flowed, as did my emotions. Facebook was stirring powerful emotions in me. Oftentimes, these weren’t positive and supportive.

I was surrounded by people I didn’t really recognize, and bombarded with more advertising than ever. Facebook, the personal social network, had become another rehashed home for brooding, breeding, and time-wasting.

Last November, I evaluated whether Facebook was still important. The things I shared were no longer liked by the people I was supposedly closest to, and that hurt. A relationship I was in was about to collapse, and I hardly wanted to share that with this disconnected, jumbled group of “friends.”

Hovering over the delete link, I contemplated life without Facebook. There were photos, videos, and status updates. But more than anything, there were moments I was saying goodbye to — exceptional and horrific.

I clicked delete, and the stream went black. Digitally done, my home away from home was burned. All those years spent networking and adding friends were gone. I felt a pain of uncertainty and unknown. Had I made a mistake?

It’s been about one year since I deleted my Facebook, and I can tell it’s been the best decision I’ve ever made. My communication mediums regressed to text messages, emails, and — gasp! — phone calls. Slowly, friends reached out and mentioned that they noticed I was no longer online. Some kept in touch and others disappeared.

Now, I have time. Instead of incessantly swiping through news feeds and liking incessantly, I read, write, and connect (in-person) more often. I’m more informed about world politics and news. I’m more concerned with helping others and making a difference. I’m not as interested in my next profile picture. I don’t care as much about taking a group photo (for others to see). I’m not as concerned about new clothing and products that’ll make me look affluent and connected.

Embarrassingly, I used to look through my photos, clicking infinitely — circling through them over and over again. Facebook held on to me — aching for me to relive my past and share every moment. There was an emotional high and low to look back on what I’ve done, where I’ve been, and who I was with. But that is largely gone. In its place is a powerful present-focus and interest in what my future holds.

Done with the ads. Done with shared walls. Done with that time-wasting.

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That’s me. I’m an extrovert. Can’t you tell?

I’m an extrovert. When I’m around crowds of people, I feed off the energy and feel excited to be alive. In a college town, with little else to do than drink yourself silly or try a new restaurant, I frequently opt for a moderate balance of both. Unfortunately, this is a black eye to my carefully crafted budget.

Participating in these social romps are one of the highlights of my weeks. Meeting new people and getting to know someone on a deeper level – there’s nothing better! But let’s face it, they do take a toll on my ability to pay off more debt. Sometimes I wish I could have the best of both worlds: social time and the frugal life. Thankfully, there are some simple mind tricks that help keep me within my budget and enjoying the company of others.

Pretend it’s a necessity

Most visitors to Frugaling are likely a part of two camps (look at me already dividing people): those who need to reduce their expenses and make more, and those who want to reduce their expenditures. If you don’t need to trim all the excess from your budget, you’re usually less inclined to do so.

The motivation for creating and following a budget is highly determined by your financial situation. The more stability you have, the more likely you’re going to be comfortable spending money on a night out with friends. Nonetheless, my guess is that if you visited this article, you at least want to reduce your expenses.

Maybe you have a little emergency fund, a great big checking account, and/or a sizable investment portfolio. Being frugal may be a life choice more than anything else. For me, I need to get my budget balanced, but I have this generous wiggle room that the federal government taunts me with: student loans.

When I’m out on the town and could pay even more for food, I think about my aim: I don’t want more loans. That places me somewhere between choosing frugality and needing it. For me, the trick is pretending like it’s a necessity to stay in budget.

For instance, let’s say I had $300 this month for food. That budget included everything from restaurants, fast-food, and even supermarkets. If I hit $300, I’m out of money for this month. More importantly, if I pretend and remember that that limit is a stopping point before catastrophe, I’m going to be very careful about where I put my money next. By pretending it’s a necessity, I realize how great the consequences of my actions can be.

Predict, plan around your social desires

Despite tricking my mind into realizing the necessity of a solid budget, there’s a humble need to share and socialize. Somehow, I want that to be filled. If most everyone is venturing off into the little downtown nightlife, I’d like to be able to go with them. Unfortunately, this is rarely friendly to my budget.

A night out on the town that includes dinner and drinks at a couple bars may cost about $40-50 after tips. Done once a week, and that eats away $200 a month from my budget. That’s not an option!

The trick here is simple: Know both your social and financial needs before the invite comes and night sweeps you away. If you’re gearing up for a fun, late, Friday night, there are a couple things you can do that will really add up:

Eat at home, before you go out. Maybe get an appetizer when you’re at a restaurant with friends.

Like those kooky college students always do: pre-game at home. By the time you’re out on the town, you’ll be ready to drink water instead of another expensive booze concoction.

Stories beat stuff

The great country of New Zealand has a wonderful advertising campaign to attract tourists. Ads feature young people skydiving, eating exotic foods, and experiencing the diverse geography of the Hobbits’ native land. All of the marketing centers around one tagline: “Stories beat stuff.”

All they’re saying is that you should get over materialistic wants and show the world what you’re made of! Rather than collecting another display piece for your home, a luxury car, or buying expensive jewelry, try running around, taking a random road trip, or flying to another country! Let these experiences fuel and motivate careful decisions regarding your budget.

It’s important to gain those experiences because ultimately they can help perpetuate and fuel a well-balanced budget. Debt destruction is easier when you’re psychologically well and whole. I guess what I’m trying to say is that every now and then, that night out on the town is a short-term loss for long-term gains.